BY Davey H

10/01 Direct Link
We start off anew
on this October one
seeing what we can do
and then what will get done.
Those two things are two;
less frequently one,
as we bid adieu
to the September sun!

We were headed back ranch-ward at this point in our nearly 2000 mile excursion,
and I would be happily back in our joint,
detached from this auto-aversion.

Through western New York state
we left a clean slate
and at each place we went
not that much time was spent.

But the dollars flowed
and that’s for sure
as the pace slowed
en-route to our door.
10/02 Direct Link

Internet service had been so utterly unreliable throughout this period as to precipitate e-rage.
Outrage would be too strong a term; the aging laptop was only intermittently to blame.

As a point of reference, we concurred that it’s nice not to have to depend on Internet connectivity. Moreover, not having Web-based distractions certainly freed up lots of time that could be put to good use not staring at a screen.

As a colleague once quipped, “why do you think they call it ‘The Web’?”

So it was best to get about the insouciant business of being tourists, connected or not.

10/03 Direct Link

On a whim, we shunted our loaded wagon to Niagara Falls, which SUCKED, by the way, then, responding to a compulsion, headed the spittin’ distance north of the border.

Holy shit, was THAT ever a mistake!

The booth-mounted Customs officials, by and large, are trained to be suspicious of anyone and everything. They stare at you with piercing glassy eyeballs, perhaps in the hopes of making you flinch or break a nervous sweat.
Should that happen, for the sake of conjecture, they would be free to search your buggy, extricate those 2 kilos of cocaine and haul your ass in.

10/04 Direct Link

If only they knew. These two stodgy boomers from the beleaguered south were only doing the Canuck thing for any or all of the following reasons: 1) for the hell of it, 2) because they love breathing exhaust, sitting in a long line of idling traffic, 3) to dust off a meal north of the border, 4) to pay outrageously high sales taxes on that meal, or 5) just to say they did Canada.

Folks back home wouldn’t care a whit.

Ultimately, the pictures taken of Niagara and the Horseshoe Falls would unalterably suck, as we were facing the sun.

10/05 Direct Link

Meanwhile, slack at the ranch, nothing of consequence had happened.
Peach trees, long neglected, had put on a bumper crop, which meant each one had a broken top and many a ripened peach did drop.
Thus, for ants and yellow jackets, some moldy peachy slop!

Morale took a nosedive temporarily, but Davey was glad to get bustin’ ass for some reason. Maybe it had something to do with takin’ after his Pa, who frequently stated:
“I don’t travel well.”

Unpack, Jack; cut out the slack.
Empty those cases and find for them places
or if not, throw ‘em out back.

10/06 Direct Link

Helen had offered Davey some barn cleanout gems out of the kindness of her heart, and Davey, being the natural packrat he never denied being, gladly took her up on it.

Then he noticed that table – a major league hardwood heavy-as-hell unit that probably weighed a couple of hundred pounds.
Somewhat sheepishly, he asked after it.

“Oh, sure, Helen said, you can have it, but it IS very heavy!”
She and her hubby had slid it – disassembled, of course – up a flight of stairs to that back room where Davey spotted it.

Now let the HAT (heavy-assed table) project begin!

10/07 Direct Link
It would be off to the races – literally – in a couple of days, and Davey had – also literally – worked himself into a daze.

The table without the chairs
although it had slid right down the stairs
had wrenched his back a bit, he swears
but won’t complain, for no one cares!

He hadn’t called Helen
nor informed her of other stuff he took,
or intended to take,
as he clean-out that nook.

Thus, he was able to intermittently slide in and out of that shared driveway without pissing off the sharers, whose funeral home wore a ghastly silence perpetually.

10/08 Direct Link
Oh, this constant spitting drizzle
will drive me friggin’ nuts;
all hopes and well-laid plans will fizzle
with no ifs ands or buts!

But no matter; when a closer look is taken,
not much gets finished anyway,
no progress is to be made by shakin’;
just hop in if you may.

Nevertheless, before this day completes
and the sun, as they say,
dips behind that thar barn,
those 3 bags will be packed
before I hit the sheets
and so postpone this here yarn.
And just as this day turns to night anyway,
by morning this rush will seem foreign.

10/09 Direct Link

It was back again to that familiar place that had become so disciplined and stringent as to engender lowered morale en route to what would otherwise be a morale-boosting regimen of the highest order.

Slopping dishes and slammin' suds,
Davey's stern wishes saw him in work duds.

Nights weren't yet so cold
as to preclude cabin bunkin',
but Davey wasn't exactly cool as a punkin'.

So he relinquished the opportunity
to garner fresh air into his overworked lungs
and missed out climbing those wooden slat-rungs.

A pounding, fast-paced madness the first day,
but good to be back in the fray.

10/10 Direct Link

Davey had been so subsumed by the frantic pace of highly rewarding selfless service, he had completely forgotten that yesterday held the dubious distinction of being the only spot on ‘our’ American calendar to celebrate the worlds first trans-Atlantic slave trader – Christopher Columbus, otherwise (at the time) known as Cristobal Colon – and the well-informed folks at the site had nailed down a few highly pertinent points; in fact, too many good ones to name here.

Breathless thus, feeling verbose after crafting a 76-word sentence – a coincidence by any stretch – Davey did NOT feel arrogantly proud of his race’s heritage.

10/11 Direct Link

Outside news was left in the dust
and that’s a good thing;
include please this LUST!
(As a point of reference, either the Boston Globe or equally voluminous New York Times unfortunately used to arrive).

Bustin’ our asses, we were busy as hell.
Outside, dormant grasses
beneath leaves that fell.

Another day,
and I’d say, “Oh, well.”

Yes, indeed, ‘twas another such day
and with great trouble, I got up,
then trudged to the kitchen to join the fray
as a semi-soft hurtin’-assed pup!

But opportunity waited
once my butt got in there
efforts unabated
time to learn some Khmer.

10/12 Direct Link

The heat was on.
And so was the pressure.
My 'fleet' was gone
by nominal measure.
Free time outside those gates abated;
fatigue and dire straits awaited!

But of course, the latter's an exaggeration;
for all that matters is one's own liberation.
So our collective free time was thus shelved
and into the cooking and clean-fuss we delved.

Manager Tom was a big f**in' guy
so to challenge him I did not even try.
Because where you stand will always depend
upon where you SIT – yeah, on your back end!

So let the narrative begin:
we were here to WIN!

10/13 Direct Link

By the venerable Lyshinizer Davey was designated suds-buster and go-to guy for all things sudsy, an assignment for which he rarely hesitated.

Time was when such exposures to heat, moisture and alkali chemicals utilized in commercial kitchen sanitizing procedures and soil extraction methods would cause Davey H's hands to break out in nearly intractable fungus conditions, leading him to dub the phenomenon:
“athlete's foot of the hand”.
No, not grand.

So this particular dish-slammin' stint would last the better part of 8 days – surely well within the confines of AFOTH avoidance.

But fate could intervene, taking Davey off the scene.

10/14 Direct Link
Nights saw each of us in their own private room – a luxury certainly not afforded summertime workers in those crowded courses.
One can well envision what a clusterf*** those spaces would be in such conditions. All it would take would be one snorer to set the whole thing off, then NOBODY would get any sleep.

Davey lounged restlessly each night
in this cavernous, windowless space,
scrawling some textual gibberish
when energy permitted,
which wasn't often
and certainly not consistent.

But since he wasn't yet in a coffin,
he could wax persistent!
So this is what he wrote:

2 B continued.
10/15 Direct Link
I presume we've no gloom,
and with paper and pen,
alone in this room
soon to get up again
with some good thoughts to groom
but cannot hit 'SEND'.

Indeed, it had been hammered into our skulls
that computer use was to be curtailed
for this long week,
so Davey H grudgingly complied.

Hoot! Day one finally done,
and a blistering dish,
pot and pan session had taken place.
Damn near lost my balance
but saved lots of face.

All told, 'twas a gain,
and was not thus a loss
with a smidgen of strain
and our fave pasta sauce!
10/16 Direct Link
Day two, boo-hoo, so what to do?
This query of you I beg;
For I'll inform you I was 0 for 2
and still needed to shake a leg.
New maintenance man was a part of the plan,
a young long haired lad named Greg.
His work was favvy
with much savvy
in our powder keg!

The heat and pressure
thus conspired
to tarnished our treasure
and make us tired.
Six days to go, we did the math
so glad, you know, to be on THE PATH!

And so for this working dog
would it be a 'long hard slog'?
10/17 Direct Link
The 'long, hard slog' analogy did raise its ugly head in conversation, though not within the context of the venue in which it had been initially made up. No, this was not an ambient atmosphere of warring factions or an unprovoked hegemonic “superpower” invading an oil-rich Arab nation, hence such terminology would technically be proscribed in this peaceful environment.

For those in attendance, and we who served them, the 'slog' would be where our toughest enemies are to be found: WITHIN.
So without pretense, fakery, superstition, beliefs in 'saviors' or outside entities to extricate said internal defilement, LET WORK BEGIN!
10/18 Direct Link
Each night, Davey had nominal energy with which to perform some perfunctory obligatory tasks before turning in. But keeping up the 100 word thing proved elusive at best, and riddled ineluctably with procrastination at worst. In this venue, it was extracurricular, and a multitasking pretext for which he was not well rehearsed.
Confronted with a blank page, he just couldn't summon creative rage.

No, he didn't bow,
bend or curtsy
to outside news & views;
any given hand-held electronic gadget usage
he did refuse.

Nor would he summon whoopee
over learning the latest tricky Asian adjectives
for cooked noodles.
10/19 Direct Link
Dayum. I thought the 19th’s entry was in the bag,
but suffice to say at this late time of day,
it was not, and that is a DRAG!

Experimenting with the AbiWord processor
may be stimulating for this prematurely senile boomer’s thinker, but it is also frustrating, especially and specifically within the 100 Word context.
For example, no easily accessible, prominently displayed real time word counter is available within this application -- one true sign of a bare bones word processor.

But when a commodity such as this
is Open Source,
one won’t moan or piss,
of course.
10/20 Direct Link
Everything got really hectic. I mean EVERYTHING. Getting those meals out on tables at the appointed time was paramount and the biggest stressor to any and all who signed up to work & not shirk.

Davey felt the struggle
and at night alone
not chilled to the bone
with clean linen did snuggle.

Meanwhile, crack at the branch,
his spousal unit did hold sway,
and he talked to her a little on about the 3rd day.
Some vitamin pills
not to cure ills
would be along the way;
his spouse in house
would click the mouse
whilst with computer play!
10/21 Direct Link
Variety in the realm of daily comestibles was a given these days – a far cry from the times when old stale grains were mashed together for the 9th day grain loaf. Yet some amongst the old timers offered a mild plaint regarding the abundance of soy products in the current menu offerings.
After all, various studies had condemned non-fermented soy as being a bad player in human health for reasons not specifically articulated at the time of this writing.

”Check out Gabe Cousens,” one fellow quipped.
“He's the doc, the Rabbi, and incredibly erudite prognosticator of details regarding vegan health.”
10/22 Direct Link
I didn't mean to be a wheezer
and needn't green to get the freezer.
Got it to shed, shoe-horned it in;
and soon it will serve as berry bin,
it's short on looks, I can't complain
and its procurement was for gain.

That's the least of our worries at present;
for a lot of things are looking unpleasant.
To wit: the sheetrock behind kitchen sink
has seen its last days, yes, that I think.
That said, you see, it needs to be
torn out and cast 'oer the brink.

“Clean Fill Wanted” said the sign;
vaunted, the pleasure's mine.

10/23 Direct Link
Back outdoors to work on all fours
we throw a ball the dog just adores!
Nice to be on those able four legs
but for food, she verily begs!

'Round thus the yard the doggie does flit;
playing so hard, with no time to shit!
But whoops, that will surely eventually happen
Look! That doggie in backyard is crappin'!

Green while, rack bat duh branch:
My, oh my, how the yard worker grieves!
Oh, poor guy – dipped in a pile of leaves!
Leaves in which he lost one glove
that fell from his pocket just above
the pile, he believes.
10/24 Direct Link

How many of you have heard of the Where Angels Play Foundation? What about the Sandy Ground Project?
Both were founded after the mindless, reckless shootings in Newtown, CT. And the 'sandy' part came into play on the coattails of rescue efforts after hurricane Sandy wiped out the Jersey coast.

The thrust of this venture is to build 26 playgrounds in loving memory of the same number of lives snuffed out in Connecticut.

Here's wondering if the NRA has offered any donations to these efforts.
If they did or if they would, they would win a smidgen of MY respect.

10/25 Direct Link

So I roll along in machine of cold steel;
with emotions strong, at least those I can feel. Short, medium, long, those feelings are real.

Both our cars wander 'oer the road
perhaps due to lack of alignment;
how they dither on under appreciable load
en route to their next assignment!

They wander 'oer yonder, a pain in the ass;
let this tailgater ponder now if he can pass.
This happens a lot, these folks on our backs
How I'd love to unleash a few roofer's tacks!

Actually, I saw that happen once:
the hapless victim got four flat tires.

10/26 Direct Link

An interesting and highly edifying glimpse into the history of our rapacious species was recently broadcast over the airwaves via a few NPR stations, thanks to the excellent sourcing of

David Nibert, professor at Wittenberg University, gave the riveting talk, which rolled on, fact-rich and at times disheartening while not debatable.

From the Conquistadors of Spain
to the CAFO's of today,
humanoids endeavor in vain
whilst at work or at play.

They frequently quibble
'oer what's on their plates
and on meats they nibble
during those debates,
while shuffling papers
in querulous capers
to fathom how it all collates.

10/27 Direct Link
When this ostensible assignment is so far behind,
one is tempted to find something – anything – and paste it in, sans plagiarism expressed or implied.
Such is the fate of the grate Davey H.

A friend, who he will refer to as “R” – wrote a friggin' DOORSTOP of a book, damn near if not fully 750 pages in length – then invited Davey and spousal unit to attend a reading, to which they were about an hour late.

Later that week,
or maybe the next,
the author'd not freak
or at least be not vexed.

Folks were reading it in one sitting!
10/28 Direct Link

This autumn it had stayed dry enough for effective leaf cleanup so far; in fact, leaves blew like a dream, swooping obediently at the end of leaf blower's invisible arm. Yes, natural resources culled and utilized by man would be a helpful medium in this endeavor.
The Ginkgo held on until the last killin' frost – date uncertain – when, after staying green on the bottom two thirds of the crown with a little tan at the top tips, they ALL fell down, literally overnight.

So THAT frost – not to be mistaken for a 'hoarfrost' – took out the marigolds as well, predictably.

10/29 Direct Link
But to what this may occur
In muddy rut where tires whir
Or thatched straw hut
Lie he and her
Do they have smut?
No thank you, sir!

Cleanliness was next to gaudy-ness
where medical devices were concerned,
and this much I had previously learned:
those gadgets don’t come cheap,
in HWI's they are burned.

If I’m not mistaken – and mistaken has been a familiar realm for this boy – today was the day L took sick with a stroke and was trundled off to the hospitable hospital.
Once ensconced in a rail-enabled bed, she rattled the dentures in her head.
10/30 Direct Link
Today, two calls had come in regarding this: one from the home in which she was staying, and another from the day help. Yet it was the lowly housekeepers who had found L lying on the floor beside her bed.

When  paramedics arrived and tended to L, they used scissors to cut off her blouse for some unknown reason. Maybe a defib was necessary under the circumstances. But nobody knows what happened.

So if this non-ischemic stroke was precipitated by aggressive use of a possibly unneeded defibrillator, it isn't surprising that no information is forthcoming; everyone is terrified of lawsuits.
10/31 Direct Link
Days became a dappled daze as the usually busy Davey H was thrust into uncharted gerontological waters and needed to learn swimming techniques therein post haste.

Day 3 of this debacle saw one of his Trusty Rustys blowing steam from the right side valve cover.
“Dayum!” Davey huffed, “must be a head gasket; she's likely to shit the bed.”
Time to make use of that towing service he was paying for but not utilizing to its full potential.

A tow, you know, to the shop it did go,
but no, did not show any head gasket blow.
So, hip, hip, we go!